I may look like a cheerful and well-travelled young lady who is also creative, extroverted and well-liked, despite my straight-forwardness and extremely feisty temper.
But the truth is, I struggle with very severe depression and not proud to say, the up and downs of depressive and mania episodes have further caused me with eating disorder, bulimia. I have lost quite a bit of weight due to this. Probably thatâs the only one small victory that came out of all these miseries.Â
The past few months was the worse period of my life.
I wallowed into a lot of self-loathe, anger and misery. And so much crying that âexcessiveâ would be an understatement.Â
If depression was an actual person, he would be the motherfucking asshole who tells you that you are unworthy, unloved, and everything bad that happens is your own fault and you donât deserve anything good in life. He is also the demon that would drain every single bit of your energy and causes constant fatigue.Â
Every morning on my lowest period, I would wake up with paralysis and physical pain. I also struggle with daily functions like brushing my teeth, showering and even trying to get up from the bed seems like the hardest things in the world. I was incapable to function and only ate one meal a day. The idea of facing the world was terrifying and I remember isolating every single person I know because yes, depression also tells me that all my friends secretly hate me, nobody cares and eventually everyone would leave. I just could not see past the lies depression told me despite the fact that I am loved, I am needed and I am wanted.Â
Various morbid suicidal thoughts went through my mind;Â Â
âHow long would someone actually take to find already gone from this world? Would anyone miss me for who I am? Would I just be known to the people as a coward who cannot face my issues despite the fact there are many people in this world have worse off issues?â
I knew I could not persist this anymore and decided to seek for professional help. Â
I then started my journey of anti-depressants and jot down on an instastory journal of the process of doing so. As much as I would like to blog out my thoughts back then, the depression monster has occupied every single bit of energy I have left. Not to mention, the voices kept telling me âWhy bother? No one would ever understand. They would just think you are just an attention-seeking whore.âÂ
I religiously took my medication because I genuinely wanted to be well. Or at least do the job of numbing the pain and grief I was facing.Â
The anti-depressants were a double-edge sword. It did numbed a lot of my pain but also âzombifiedâ me that I felt ânothingâ and âemptyâ. Once the medication effect runs out, I felt that the monster got bigger and it would overpower me again.Â
Being in a worse-off state, I took more dosages of meds, simply just hopping it would prolong the numbing effect. At that point of time, it didnât cross my mind that I was involving substance abuse and I was getting addicted.Â
There was one extremely dark night, I accidentally took 8 dosages where my prescribed medication was 2 dosages and the maximum was 4 dosages.Â
âFuck, should I go to the hospital?âÂ
That was the first thought on my mind. I know I have contemplated suicide countless times, but the feeling of knowing that I might potentially die at any moment from then is just heart-wrenching. How many people would I be hurting with my death?Â
âThey would get over it and you would just be part of another oblivionâÂ
That was what the voices told me so, and it really got into me.Â
âYeah... Why bother?â That was my second thought. I laid on the bed and stared at the white ceiling for a short while before I got knocked out and lose every single train of thought. It was definitely not a normal sleep. If I were to describe more aptly, I would say it is anesthetic sleep where everything goes to complete unconsciousness. The last conscious thought I remembered was, hoping the world would be a better place, people to be kinder and people I care about to never go through what I have to go through...Â
But the next morning (or rather, afternoon), I did managed to wake up but with the most intense physical pain ever. Migraine, nausea and diarrhea all came at once. Iâd skip the specific graphics about how I purge out because that is not the point, but fortunately, I did manage to get most of the undigested medication out.Â
I donât exactly know how long I was unconscious for but I knew it was hell of a long time (<16 hours). I promised myself to never ever do this again, be it overdosing or intentionally/accidentally attempting suicide. The intensive pain is not something I want to undergo again, in my life.Â
My almost-death experience had me decided to completely quit drugs and focus on changing my mindset, instead of relying on medication. Of course, it wasnât an instant apperception and I could go on my difficult cold turkey days, but that would be another long story, meant for another day.
This particular experience have made me realised that life is too precious to give up on your own and I am more than grateful that someone up there have given another opportunity to stay alive. Cliche, but very true.Â
Also, for my own good reasons, I will not share what was the recent trigger as the pain is still pretty raw and still bothers me up to today.Â
However, since I have shed some light on depression, I do have another confession and story to share -Â
I have been depressed ever since I was a child, even before I even knew the definition of it.
I donât think anybody is born depressed but with sad stories, background and toxic environment, it is all meant to be a tragedy to begin with. Mine has already started, even way before I was born.Â
Both of my highly-educated parents hailed from Malaysia and I was birthed in Miri, Sarawak, where it was considered rural 25 years ago. The environment was so terrible that there are no gynecologists around and my mother had to take a ferry to head to hospital for me to be delivered by a midwife. Not to mention, my father was in Sydneyâs ICU because he was extremely ill (he was an Australia PR and hence, he was able to receive subsidised medical treatment).Â
Many people are surprised with the fact that I am not born in Kuala Lumpur instead, where my mother came from. Afterall, It is a city with actual proper medical facilities. I shall not reveal the full backstory because it involves my motherâs tragic background as well, but basically she was forced by her mother (my grandmother) to get out KL to give birth. Hence, she went to Miri instead even when my dad was not around (and my dad is from Miri).Â
I believed she was in an extreme tragic state. With her husband being extremely ill, being a city girl her whole life but had to go to a rural area to give birth, and having an unsupportive mother who didnât even allow her to give birth in KL.
My mum have never really admitted to me about her pre-natal / post-natal depression but moments she saw me acting up during my depressive episodes, she told me she shouldnât have affected me when she was pregnant. It breaks my heart to hear her say that and sometimes, I simply wished I was never born...Â
Fortunately (or maybe unfortunately), she did gave birth to me after the hardship and my dadâs health condition did improved after receiving treatment in Australia. Hence, all of us moved back to KL and we have gotten a place on our own, to be part of a family.Â
However, my family tragedies didnât end here.Â
My family was extremely poor with the debts my father incurred from his failed business ventures and he got ripped off a lot of money from his ex Thai-wife. Hence, my mum had to work extremely hard as the sole-breadwinner to clear his debts. My dad could only do freelance work because he was extremely ill. Many assumed I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Not only that is not true, I also remembered a lot of moments of being poor. It also scares me if I were to struggle to make ends meet when I am older.Â
To make things worse for me (and my family), I have to go for an surgery operation due to an anatomy body part issue that was discovered shortly after I turned 6 months old. That not only had burden my family on the financial aspect, it also caused me to have severe body image issues due to the huge operation scar inflicted on my stomach. As this is a relatively private issue, I have never really talked about this to anybody though many assumed that was a scar from cesarean/miscarriage. I probably suffered a lot during those surgery days but it was a good thing I did not remember any. Though the scar on my stomach, is evidently that I did undergo this and it would affect my self-image to a certain extent, for the rest of my life.Â
My earliest recognisable moments of my mum was when I was about three years old. Back then, she got headhunted by Citibank Singapore with a job with better pay (due to currency exchange rate) and better prospects. So, she had to leave Malaysia for Singapore to work.Â
I remembered vaguely the day she got ready to leave. I did not know what was happening but I knew something was up, like the fact that she was leaving. I was bawling like mad and even took her handbag and begged her not to go. Though being upset, my mum still left and my dad let her do so for a better family life. I guess that was the very first time I have ever felt abandonment.Â
Back then, my mother would try to come back every weekend, taking the Fridayâs sleeper train in Tanjong Pagar (which is also where she worked and stayed) and returning to Singapore in a sleeper train on Sunday night. It was really very tough for her, but I did not understand the turmoil back then. Slowly, she just became a stranger...Â
Life was still tough without my motherâs presence. My father had to take care of me while going for his medical followups. He would put me over at a kind nannyâs house who she took care of me alongside with other kids. She passed away two years ago and that really affected me a lot. Here is the link of my blog entry when she passed away in 2015 -Â https://dayre.me/jenuinejen/9tMSI3OBdDÂ . I am thankful for her to give me love when I was a burden kid. To me, my father and her were my everything and my mother was just someone else who visits on the weekend. She did try to love and be close to me when is back, but I just couldnât do so then.Â
My dad and I would occasionally visit her in Singapore. I remembered we wanted to save some money and beating the traffic, we would take the bus from KL - JB and then walk across the causeway to Woodlands Checkpoint. For a kid, it was pretty much a long distance but I remembered I was so happy with my dad holding one of my hands and me carrying my favourite mickey mouse plushie on the other. When we reached Woodlands Checkpoint, he would be in the taxi stand asking if anyone is going to the same direction, so we can share a cab together with some cost savings. I find him extremely smart and awesome. It was a âgrabshareâ and âuberpoolâ idea of more than 20 years ago! I remembered the three of us would squeeze in a masterbed room that my mum rented. It was indeed one of the very rare childhood moments I remembered and enjoy.Â
After more than a whole year of such a routine, my parents decided that this should not be how a typical family should be and it was an issue because I wasnât close to my mum at all. I remembered the only time I was happy around her was because she could bring me to the female toilet when we were out.Â
Our whole family then decided to migrate to Singapore when I was 4, for a better life-changing conducive environment for me to grow up in, as well as to reunite the family. My capable mum then, has earned enough to rent a pretty good executive flat over at Bedok. That was the biggest change in my life, affecting me up till today. I didnât understand completely the importance of a family reunion back then but I was surely happy seeing my dad happy and I actually started to love my mum again, with her presence.Â
However, good times donât last. My dad got extremely ill again and could not function enough to hold a job and take care of me at the same time, so my family had to hire a domestic maid to look after me.Â
My first domestic maid, Kak Kak T was from Indonesia and she looked like a young demure, meek and sweet lady who was just trying to make a living in Singapore. Indeed, she was, initially. However, what she did next was unforgivable and has caused me lifelong trauma...Â
My dad had to head to back to Australia for his medical treatments and my mum had to work. Hence, Kak Kak T held responsible to look after me. My mum gave her money everyday to buy food. Instead she would just get a cream bun everyday for lunch and pocket the rest of the money, causing me to be malnourished. And, this is the only the tip of the iceberg of the horrible things she do.Â
She also prostituted herself and brought along the men to our home and occasionally, it would be vice versa where she would bring me to their homes.Â
Of course, being a 5-year-old kid, how would I know the concept on whatever they are doing? I only knew it was hell of uncomfortable. All the customers were foreign bangala/indian workers. They would simply locked themselves in the room for hours. and leaving me out in the living room, bewildered with a cream bun and watching Sesame Street, wondering when will Kak Kak T be out to bring me out of this awkward situation.Â
Sometimes, Kak Kak T would bring me to her âcustomersâ place instead. As mentioned, they were all foreign workers(possibly bangala/indians), hence they all stayed at rented rooms in a flat. I vividly remember there was this one occasion, it was in a Malay household. As usual, I would have to sit outside and wait for her. I remembered I was watching Malay cartoons with a bunch of Malay kids who gave me dirty looks, wondering why am I even there. Back then, I was just hoping that Daddy would return home soon so I would not have to succumb to all these un-comfortableness.Â
I did not know what they were doing were wrong so I did not voice out to my mum. But thatâs the second time in my life that I felt an extreme sense of abandonment.Â
I thought that was already the worse coming from her, but what happened next was unforgivable ;Â
Before one of her sexual transactions at our place, she was in the kitchen doing work. That particular customer was exceptionally friendly to me. I cannot remember the exact things he said to me but the next thing I knew, he was putting his hands over my clothes and started to touch me all over, including my private areas.Â
That was the first time I got sexually abused.Â
After Kak Kak T came out of the kitchen and saw what was happening, she screamed âHey, you donât touch her!â. He was like âokay, okayâ and then got really frustrated, dragging her to the bedroom, leaving me out in the living room again. To think about it now, maybe she does have some conscience in not wanting me to get hurt.Â
If you ask me, how I was feeling at that point of time. Besides being extremely uncomfortable, I do not have the capacity or ability to know what was it and feel anything else, like trauma. Unfortunately, that only hit me when I was older when I exactly knew what was happening.Â
My dad eventually came back from Australia and I was already so different with all these events subconsciously affecting me. He could see that I am no longer the happy and cheerful, and even emotionally torn in some ways.Â
If you are still reading my post up till this point, you might be wondering what could potentially be worse to happen that year right? Yeah, the tragedies did not end...Â
What happened next was the worse and I guess that was the trigger to my child depression -Â
My grandfather passed away, and my father got into a bacteria attack from the funeral and had to be admitted to ICU. My mum had to pause her work to take care of him in the hospital every single day. And yes, with all of that happening concurrently, Kak Kak T is still prostituting herself, bringing me to the homes of her customers.Â
The last straw of the event was when she had a dispute with one of them (yes, the very same one who sexually abused me) on one of the nights at his rental room. I am not exactly sure what happened, but Kak Kak T came out his room crying and trying to get me out of his apartment. On the other hand, he grabbed me from Kak Kak T and refused to let the both of us leave. It was as though like a tug of war and that was the first moment I actually bawled after the countless events, and I felt scared and helpless. Eventually, he did let Kak Kak T and I go. I am not exactly sure why he did but I am guessing we were already making a huge commotion and getting his neighoursâ attention.Â
Kak Kak T and I just kept crying like mad while on our way home. However, she did remembered to threaten me that if I were to tell my mother about it, she will never buy me cream buns again.Â
However, upon reaching home, I had a complete meltdown and told my already-distraught mother, particularly on that nightâs event as well as how she always brought me along to other menâs homes and how one of the men had touched me.Â
I do not know how she was feeling at that point of time but I am guessing upset and overwhelmed. Probably, also helpless because she cannot fire her maid at the moment because her husband was in ICU. Much later, I also found out that Kak Kak T has attempted to seduce my father and managed to seduced the tenant who was also staying with us.Â
What the actual fuck, how many more traumatising events does she require to taunt me my whole life? You really canât blame me for losing faith in the world at such a young age.Â
Shortly after, my dad passed away before I turned 6. September 11th, 1997 then became the saddest day of my life. Life was pretty much haywire for my mother and I.Â
I guess Kak Kak T got the best out of all of us. my mum brought her to the clinic for checkup and she was pregnant. Luckily for her, she was pregnant with my tenantâs baby, who was a Singapore PR and my motherâs colleague. He was willingly to undertake the responsibility and married her. Also, luckily for us, the doctor was kind and did not report us to the police because that would imply we would not able to hire a maid for the rest of our lives.
My mum then became really depressed and wanted to take me to jump of the building, so we can end our lives together. Of course, she didnât do so because she was an extremely strong-willed woman who also underwent many other difficult occasions in her life. Sometimes, during my most depressive days, I really wished she did it at that point of time...Â
After my dadâs passing, my mum numbed herself with an overwhelming load of work to get over the grief. I remembered calling her during work because I needed the comfort from my fatherâs death. However, she did not provide to me. Instead, she told me that I have to get over the fact that my father is never going to come back and I should start to get used to life without him. The feeling of hearing that from your mother is terrible because I felt that she was trying to push me away.Â
I was already not close to her ever since young. Hence, the emotional neglect from her after my dadâs death, really broke my young heart. I really hated my mum. On the weekends, I would call her office and leave voice mails saying that she is stupid and I hate her. It really felt like I have lost both parents at one go.Â
My mum did fulfill her financial responsibilities as a mum, and she made sure the second domestic maid she hired, did not starve me like how Kak Kak T did to me. However, I was really miserable about the fact she chose to avoid matters and letting me, a 6-year-old kid to deal with her emotions.Â
If you are still reading this at this point of time, I thank you for your patience to read on, because my childhood tragedies have not ended.Â
My second domestic maid, Kak Kak S, who is another horrible and vile person. Due to the influence of pregnant Kak Kak T, who always revisits my home and got acquainted with her, told her to prostitute herself so she could end up like the lucky her instead of being a maid her entire life.Â
Similarly, like Kak Kak T, Kak Kak S started to prostitute herself to foreign Indian/Bangala workers. The only difference is that instead of bringing me to their homes or bringing me back, she would either abandon me alone at home or letting me stray in the playground with other âwildâ kids.Â
The older upper primary kids would always pick on me because they knew nobody would come and save me and I was as tall and almost as big than some of them. Also, they did not like me because I was very entrepreneurial. I would save up money and buy those big packages of individual snacks, selling the individual packets to either other kids or I will go door-to-door knocking making sales, after school where Kak Kak S would then head to somewhere else.Â
One of a particular âgangâ leader, an Indian Da-jie-Da, did not like me very much and always trying to âfind troubleâ with me. If you are thinking, how possibly evil could primary school kids be? Then, you are extremely wrong. Because some of them are too young to even understand what is considered extremes (probably also the fact they also have fucked-up childhood/upbringing), they are evil to the maximum.Â
I remember she would get her minions who would round me up at the void deck and forced me to eat sweet plastic wrappers. Yes, I had ate some just to please her but eventually I spit and ran to the playground and took a handful of sand and threw at her and her minions.Â
School bullying was also pretty bad. There was this one particular fatty named Yan De, who would use his pencil to stab me and make fun of me not having a dad. I was terribly afraid of him and always succumb to his bullying and taunting. Back then, I did try telling my busy mum that I was facing these countless issues at school. However, my mechanism to all these, was pretending to be sick and try to skip school as much as I can. Eventually, my mother found out and told me that I cannot run away from my problems. I took it as the fact that I have to be of a bigger bully than them.Â
My mother did tried to help me by informing my form teacher who was supposed to help me in return. She simply just scolded Yan De and asked him not to do it again and that was pretty much it. Obviously, the bullying from Yan De persisted and got worse, where he would tear my books and steal my stuff instead of openly stabbing me with pencil. And I retaliated by kicking his vital part and boxing him on his stomach, making a point that I am not someone to be easily triffled with. On these various childhood bullying incidences, it has pretty much caused me my extreme defensiveness, even up till today.Â
Thanks to these bullies, I was already an obnoxious ah-lian who engages in physical fights before I turned 7-year-old. I could have be a sweet-natured, demure girl that both my parents expected me to be. However, with these environmental factors, I guess Iâd never be ...Â
At that age, I wish these people who hurt me, would go to hell. However, I truly wish they are better people now so they would not go to hell.Â
As mentioned earlier, Kak Kak S prostituted herself and would abandon me to somewhere when doing so. However, during the one month school holidays, I told her to not do so because I was already facing all these various taunting and I do not like the fact that she is treating me like dirt too.Â
That was one of the stupidest child decision I have ever made because due to her bringing me along ...Â
I was exposed to my second sexual abuse,
Well, I could go on, but you have probably gotten the point.Â
I guess I could be defined as a prostitute in a way. These perpetrators do give me some kind of reward after touching me. Sometimes, it is a packet of chips and sometimes, it is a can of coke. The biggest gift I received, was a masak toy set. Yeap, I was probably the worldâs cheapest prostitute. If you are wondering, I did not have sexual intercourse with any of them, probably I was too young or the fact is most of the time, we were at the obscure HDB areas like the stairs or void deck and etc.Â
However, what they did to me and what they made me do, was pretty much enough to cause me trauma for my entire life. Not too much about the graphical sexual activities, but more on the fact that I got exposed with such despicable, low-life which made me convinced that there are more bad than good in the world.Â
Though I was quite sure then, that exploiting myself in that manner is probably not right but I just could not be bothered. Because to me, these foreign men had more kindness than the bullies. They were actually âniceâ and âwanted meâ. Sad to say, I even felt that they cared more about me than my mum back then. What a fucked up, illogical child brain thinking. I wished I have more brain capacity to think through back then so I do not have this regretful story to tell today. Â
Eventually, Kak Kak S got fired by my mother because she was a conniving liar who stole her money and valuables. My mum probably also know that she prostituted herself but I did not voice out anything, on my end. We also moved to a nice condominium. I did not had to face the HDB kid bullies anymore and my subsequent domestic maids did not prostituted themselves.Â
Since my childhood days, I was pretty much convinced that I was fucked up, damaged, unloved and unworthy, I remembered wanting to grow up as quick as I can because obviously, I wasnât growing up happily like a typical child should be. Sure, my basic needs like food, housing and clothing are met but my feelings as a child were never a priority to anyone. My friends were always telling me how they wish to relive their childhood days and how I wish I could relate to them...Â
The subsequent growing up years were not easy, I definitely have more fucked up moments along the years, seeking validation, especially I have discovered online dating when I was 14 years old.Â
I guess Iâd leave those stories for now because the entry is getting extremely long and you have gotten the point that, I am extremely fucked up. If you have known me for a long time, I am pretty sure you have read my teenage blogs with angry and miserable entries.Â
You know, I am not exactly sure why I am sharing my deepest darkest secrets that I never thought I will share with people I could count with more than one hand, let alone sharing in such an open platform.Â
I guess I feel compelled to do so for many reasons -Â
Maybe it is the fact that I watched â13 reasons whyâ during my most depressive period and realised that I should get some closure from the similar painful occasion. I may not have killed myself like what Hannah did but it did make me felt I was unworthy and undeserving throughout the years.Â
Maybe it is the fact that I am sick of victimizing myself and letting it affect my growing up phase and I just want a relief of letting go my darkest secret and not let it further affect me anymore.Â
Maybe it is the fact that I want to use my painful experience to share some insight, and spread awareness and letting the same people who are undergoing the same struggles with me, It is not something shameful when someone exploits your young vulnerability and innocence. Itâs the other partyâs fault, not yours.Â
Maybe it is the fact that it is a bit of everything.Â
Chris Cornell and Chester Benningtonâs death at this year, has taught me that mental health does not discriminate. It doesnât matter whether you are millionaire kind of rich or famous. When it hits you, it hits you.Â
For those, who are struggling like I do, please do not give up. It isnât easy but you have to show that it is worth it.Â
I simply hope this post would serve as an awareness post.Â
As long more people could understand the severity and aspects of mental health, then I think it is worth it for me to reveal my vulnerabilities and secrets.Â
Be kind and have empathy. You do not know what exactly goes through on someoneâs head though he/she might look good and not fit into the ânormsâ of a a typical mental patient.Â
Remember that even the heaviest snowstorm would eventually end, and the darkest night always produces the brightest star.
Stay blessed and healthy.Â
